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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24433939">Empty Rooms</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunmetal_ring/pseuds/gunmetal_ring'>gunmetal_ring</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Freeform, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Hogwarts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:22:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,629</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24433939</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunmetal_ring/pseuds/gunmetal_ring</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Seamus only wants her to be happy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lavender Brown/Seamus Finnigan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Empty Rooms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seamus is struggling to Levitate a particularly heavy box while simultaneously propping open Lavender's bedroom door, regretting his decision to put off organizing the boxes he'd already moved in before bringing this one up. He then realizes that the proportions of this heavy box are too large to actually fit in the room with the door open at this particular angle, and while he's trying to rearrange some of the boxes behind the door to open it a little more, he breaks his concentration - and subsequently, his Levitation charm - and it smashes onto his toe.</p><p>"Fuckin' <i>Christ</i>!" He's hopping around like mad, wobbling on his one good leg, letting a stream of profanity that would make his mother run for the soap. He finally gets far enough away from all the boxes, so he doesn't have to look at his shame, and he sits down to cure his injury.</p><p>A few minutes pass before he feels like he's stewed long enough in his patented mix of self-pity and righteous fury, and he begrudgingly gets up to organize the boxes in her room, which is really what he should have done in the first place.</p><p>Seamus has always been the kind to gravitate towards his loved ones, particularly in times of strife. And naturally, he considers rebuilding the world after the War rife with strife. So it's no surprise to him that he tries to keep his friends close, and unfortunately for him, today that means moving in Lavender to her new one-bedroom flat with Dean, Parvati, and Parvati's new boyfriend helping.</p><p>She lives in a bad part of Muggle London, but when Seamus asks her why, she just frowns and shakes her head. He continues helping her move into her flat - much smaller than he'd assumed she'd want, curiously enough. Parvati mentioned before that he shouldn't say anything to Lavender about the fact that they're not living together, because it's a touchy subject and they don't really want to get into it.</p><p>Gradually, Dean and Parvati and Parvati's new boyfriend call it a day, and it's just Seamus and Lavender left, surrounded by boxes of all her worldly possessions. He offers to take her to dinner, but she declines, and makes it fairly clear that she's looking forward to being alone.</p><p>---</p><p>She doesn't return his owls with frequency, and when she does, it's a short, impersonal reply. Naturally, this makes him more concerned, so he inundates her with more owls, and the cycle continues.</p><p>He asks Dean if he's heard of anything going on with her, even though he was never particularly close with her in the first place, and if there was something going on, Seamus would certainly know about it before Dean would.</p><p>He even owls Parvati, knowing that it'll just get back to Lavender and probably make her even less likely to speak to him, but he's worried. Parvati lets him know that she's not faring much better, and she was actually considering checking in with Seamus sometime soon anyway.</p><p>Seamus doesn't know if she's even got any other friends - he's sure Harry, Ron, and Hermione don't keep in touch, for more reasons than he can count, and Neville, Ernie, Justin, and Hannah didn't really seem too close with her anyway. He can't remember her speaking with any younger classmates, and realizes with a pang that even if she did used to have friends, plenty of them are likely dead now, and the rest might shy away from her scarred face.</p><p>He's determined not to become one of them.</p><p>---</p><p>After a fourth consecutive ignored owl, he makes the decision to Apparate over to her house. He knocks on the door, knowing he's uninvited, and when nobody answers he sends a Patronus that he's sure is more of a wispy mumble, anyway.</p><p>He stands outside her door for another few minutes, and begins knocking, and this time he doesn't stop. His hand soon gets tired, so instead he charms a Knut in his pocket to rap against the door for him.</p><p>Evidently, she gets sick of it, so she whips the door open, and somehow doesn't expect to see him there.</p><p>"Oh."</p><p>He was hoping for a slightly warmer welcome, but he'll take what he can get. He plasters on the widest grin he's got.</p><p>"Invite me in, won't you? Feel like I'm a vampire, here."</p><p>Her eyebrows furrow with confusion. Pureblood, right.</p><p>He clears his throat. "Ah, Muggles think vampires can't cross doorsteps without an invitation." He can tell by her expression that that didn't really clarify anything. "Well. Anyway. Can I come in?"</p><p>She stares at him for a few more moments, then inches herself to the side, leaving a sliver of the door open for him to enter.</p><p>He squeezes in, stomping on his own toes in an effort not to bang the door against her face. "Ach - don't mind me, just - sorry-," and finally, he's through.</p><p>He helps himself to a pitcher of pumpkin juice and pours himself a glass. He sits down at her kitchen table and gestures to the other empty chair. "Would you like to sit?"</p><p>She huffs, and rolls her eyes, but she makes her way over. "Nice to see you're making yourself at home."</p><p>"Well, somebody's got to." He casts a glance around, noticing that most of the pictures and artwork she'd packed are still in boxes, walls bare and only the most crucial of furniture set out to use. "How many more months are you planning on trapping away your most prized possessions?"</p><p>She shrugs, doesn't look at him. "I don't know. I don't really care. I don't really feel like it. My mom was the one who packed it all up anyway."</p><p>He watches her fiddle with her fingers - nails bitten off and cuticles swollen, he notices, a nasty new habit she's seemed to pick up - and wonders if her younger, unblemished self is in any of the Hogwarts-era pictures that she doesn't want to hang up.</p><p>He sits back in the chair. "Well, next time I come over, I'll unpack exactly one item from exactly one box, and do it for you."</p><p>She shrugs again, clearly uninterested. "Why are you here?"</p><p>Seamus barks out a laugh. "You can't be serious. You think your 'hi, nice weather we're having' owls every few weeks are no cause for concern? I write you novels about my meals, about my every waking moment, and not only do I get no commentary back, I don't even have the pleasure of hearing about your daily comings and goings."</p><p>She seems to pick up on the underlying scolding, given the glare she's shooting his way. "I didn't ask you to badger me with your ramblings. You're free to send those to just about anyone else."</p><p>Seamus holds her gaze, level and clear. "You know that's not true."</p><p>They sit in silence for a few more minutes, and she thanks him for coming over, and he knows it's time to leave.</p><p>---</p><p>More weeks pass, and fairly often he shows up at her door unexpectedly. Sometimes it goes a little more smoothly, sometimes it's a little less friendly, but it's consistent, and he sticks to his promise - every time he goes over, he hangs up a poster of Celestina Warbeck or a Gryffindor banner or sets out another Chocolate Frog card in her collection.</p><p>He makes sure to avoid all the pictures with her in them, mostly because he knows it will upset her, and she might even just take it down afterwards anyway, but also because he himself isn't quite ready to look at some of those pictures. She's kept all the ones of the two of them, and he knows they're buried somewhere in a box or two, but they're difficult to see for several reasons, none of which he's too interested in analyzing right now.</p><p>---</p><p>Eventually, she seems to warm up to him more, and even answers a personal question here and there. One night, as they're playing Gobstones, she says, out of the blue, "It's because I fit in here."</p><p>Seamus glances up at her, but she's looking steadfastly at her stones. "What do you mean?"</p><p>She flicks her eyes up at him, ever so slightly. "You asked why I live in this neighborhood. It's because I fit in." Her voice is normal enough, but her body is rigid, and her aura is tense.</p><p>He blinks. "You... fit in with a Muggle, crime-ridden neighborhood?"</p><p>It's a few moments before she quietly mutters, "Muggle criminals don't ask me about my scars."</p><p>Seamus feels his cheeks flush. Obviously. <i>Obviously</i>. Muggles have no idea where those scars come from, those scars that can't be healed or changed or glamoured over with magic. They have no idea what types of people have scars like those. She's not an outcast, a freak, a Dark creature's familiar here. She's just a roughed-up girl.</p><p>He whispers, "I'm sorry," and he thinks she knows that he's apologizing for so much more.</p><p>---</p><p>Months pass, with their routine more or less established, and Seamus learns that she's actually got a job in Muggle London too, which makes sense, but she hasn't got any friends or boyfriends or any plans, ever, really, except for his impromptu visits. She shuts him down when he asks about Parvati and Dean, and outright refuses to reminisce in Hogwarts memories.</p><p>One night while he's over there, he realizes - it's her birthday. He inwardly curses at himself, but manages to Conjure up a bundle of lavender sprigs and a vase while she's in the restroom, and sets it up, all looking quite nice on the kitchen table before she comes back.</p><p>She walks back into the kitchen, and stops short. "Oh," she says, just staring at it.</p><p>Seamus attempts, and fails, at a grin. "Well - it's, isn't it your birthday?"</p><p>Lavender nods, and then, miraculously, cracks a ghost of a smile. "Yeah, it is. I had almost forgotten. Thanks."</p><p>Seamus' grin is steadier now. "Do you want to do something? Dinner, drinks, dancing? I hear that's a real Muggle's night out."</p><p>She's staring at him now, and he can't quite read her expression, but he sees the gears whirring in her head.</p><p>After a moment, she simply holds out her hand, and he grasps it. She leads him back to her bedroom.</p><p>It's as bare as the rest of the house - with the exception of the den, of course, and Seamus is fairly proud of himself for that - and she's looking at him expectantly.</p><p>He glances at the bed, and then back at her. "Er - you know, we don't - I'm not -," and mercifully she cuts him off.</p><p>"I know. I just thought it'd be nice."</p><p>Seamus considers this, and steps closer to her.</p><p>She extinguishes all the lights in the room, and helps him take off his clothes. He's standing before her in just his boxers, and he leans in and kisses her.</p><p>They'd snogged plenty over the years in school, but they'd hardly done it with the intention of going further, and by the time his hormones kicked into overdrive there was the War to contend with, so it kind of put a damper on any romantic notions he may have had with their on-again, off-again semi-relationship.</p><p>He knew it would feel a little different than those times, but kissing her now, in the dark, in her nearly-empty room and the promise of a warm bed is... strange, to say the least. It's so at odds with the Lavender she used to be - she liked being the center of attention, particularly the center of <i>his</i> attention, and he can only imagine how she would have reacted had he made love to her in the dark. Probably complained that he was picturing it with someone else, or something.</p><p>Still, he's heartened to notice she seems to be interested in doing this with him, and not even just as a way to kill time, and so he pulls her a little closer and she pushes him onto the bed.</p><p>He manages to get her clothes off and they're kissing again, and when they're both fully nude he's leaning over her and he whispers, "Is it okay if I try something?"</p><p>He can't see her expression - it's like she set off some Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, it's so black in here - but judging by the tone of her voice she's a little hesitant. "What do you mean?"</p><p>He's actually grateful that she can't see him blush. "Er - well, me cousin John told me about it, he did it to his girl and she really liked it - it's, er, well. Ahem. I'm not sure how to describe it, exactly. It's - my mouth -" and he's cursing himself again for his poorly timed tongue-tie.</p><p>She just breathes out, sounding a little relieved. "Yeah, okay."</p><p>Seamus grins. "Just stop me if you want, love," and he slides down near the bottom of the bed, runs his hands up her legs, over her thighs, and massages her hipbones.</p><p>"This okay?"</p><p>She scoffs. "You don't need to keep asking. I'll tell you if it's not."</p><p>He holds his hands up in mock defense, forgetting that she can't see him. "Alright, alright, excuse me for being a proper gentleman."</p><p>With that, he moves his hands back to her inner thighs, rubs them, gentle as he can, and leans his head down.</p><p>He hasn't done this before, and he can only assume Lavender's never had this done to her before, but great <i>God</i> this is incredible. She tastes unlike anything he's ever tasted, tangy and salty and sour-sweet and somehow familiar, and he's so busy reveling in her taste that he almost forgets to check to see if she's actually enjoying this.</p><p>Judging by her quick little breaths, she is.</p><p>He runs his thumbs over her, rubbing her creases and swiping over that little circle on top and licking deep within her, and he whispers <i>can I use my fingers, too</i>, and she chokes out a little <i>yeah</i>, and so he's sliding the tip of his index finger inside her, slowly stroking circles and feeling her squeeze around him and he runs his tongue over the little bud now, and the squeezing gets tighter and her legs are drawing up around him.</p><p>He's not sure if she's trying to signal something to him, so he pulls off her and whispers, "D'you want me to stop?" and she slaps him on the head.</p><p>"No, you idiot, keep going," she hisses out, and so he does.</p><p>His jaw soon starts to ache, and the very inconsistent rhythm he'd managed to eke out is losing steam, and he's having trouble figuring out which sounds and which movements mean she likes it or not, but he doesn't want to get another slap on the head, because he's pretty sure she likes all of it just as much as he does, and while he's figuring out how long exactly he's supposed to be doing all of this he feels another squeeze and he hears her gasp out a quiet little <i>oh</i> and then her whole body shakes in his hands and her thighs clench his face so tight he can't breathe and honestly, if this is how he dies, so be it. He's a happy man.</p><p>She eventually relaxes her legs around him and pulls him up to her, kissing him deep and slow and rubbing up against his bare cock, hard enough that he's sure it's poking her in a somewhat uncomfortable manner but she doesn't seem to care.</p><p>He cradles her face in his hands and she abruptly pushes him away. "Don't touch my face." Her harsh tone brooks no argument.</p><p>Seamus murmurs an apology, and refuses to dwell on the sadness that he feels stirring within him.</p><p>She reaches back for him and runs a hand down his spine. "How do you want to do this?"</p><p>Seamus shrugs, an involuntary reaction that almost has him collapsing on top of her. "I dunno, I didn't really, ah, think about it." He did, he knows she can tell he's lying, but thankfully she doesn't press him.</p><p>A moment passes, and Lavender decides for them. "You can be on top," she whispers.</p><p>Seamus nods, again forgetting she can't see him. "Ah, yeah, okay." He's trying to figure out the mechanics of it before she giggles - an honest-to-God giggle, the kind that he hasn't heard from her in ages - and shifts below him. Her hand slides down his chest, until she's <i>holding</i> him - Christ, that feels good, and <i>no,</i> he doesn't instantly come in her hand, he <i>knew</i> Dean was messing him about - and she's raising her legs, pushing and prodding until he feels her, wet and hot, and open, right at his tip.</p><p>He looks at her face - god, he wishes he could see her - and tries to gauge how she's feeling. He whispers another, "Are you sure?" and senses an eye roll in return, so he inches further, slowly as can be, and squeezes his eyes shut with the feeling of it.</p><p>He's still sliding in, almost near the end, and she whispers, "Not so deep, that kind of hurts," and he immediately begins pouring out a litany of apologies, to which he receives another slap on the head.</p><p>He stills, unclear what to do, and swallows his pride. "What, um - should - do you -," and she seems to understand his jumbled mess of words, thankfully.</p><p>"It's okay, just not so deep. Just start moving." And she shifts her hips beneath him.</p><p>Seamus lets out a little moan, unaware that he could make a sound like that. He knows it's probably only going to get more intense, so this is his only chance, and he pushes away his embarrassment - "Lav, I know why, but can we - can I please, just for tonight, just for now, can I please see you?"</p><p>She freezes beneath him, and he pulls out. Her body starts shaking, and for a moment he thinks he hurt her, until he hears her crying, so, so softly.</p><p>He rolls over to his side, not wanting to hover over her anymore, and smoothes a hand down her arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -"</p><p>She shakes her head, moving the pillow with her. "No, you didn't - it's just me, I can't - it's too hard. I'm sorry. I wish I could." And she starts crying even harder.</p><p>Seamus feels a little piece inside of him break. "Hey, no, you don't have to - I get it, I'm sorry for asking, I just - you're such a - I just want you to be happy, love. Please." And he pulls her into his arms, strokes a hand through her hair, rubbing small circles into her back until she falls asleep.</p><p>He wishes he could take it all back - his request, his hesitance, his failure to protect her during the Battle. She doesn't deserve this.</p><p>---</p><p>The morning breaks, and Seamus wakes up long before Lavender does. They hadn't moved much during the night, except that Lavender's curled up into him a little bit more than before. He's got a nasty crick in his neck, but he doesn't want to move, just in case she wakes up.</p><p>He just watches her sleep for a while, noticing that the little stress line between her eyebrows is finally receded, even just a little bit - there's still a small indentation from it's near-permanent presence, but for now, she's a little bit peaceful.</p><p>She stirs, and he can tell the moment she realizes where she is - she flinches, curls herself up into a ball even tighter, and rubs at her eyes, seeming to buy some time before she has to confront the situation.</p><p>He figures he should probably break the ice. "Good morning, sunshine!"</p><p>She ignores him. Fair play to her.</p><p>It's long enough before she responds that he thinks she may have gone back to sleep, but eventually, she mumbles, "Sorry about last night."</p><p>He shakes his head. "No. No sorries needed, and no sorries accepted here. Return to sender, thank you."</p><p>She scoffs. "No, I just - I didn't mean for it to end like that, I wanted to have a - I haven't done that in a really, really, really long time, so..."</p><p>He raises his eyebrow. Maybe he did misjudge her. "You... when, uh - or I guess, do I know the fella -" and she cuts him off with a glare.</p><p>"No, not <i>that</i>. I meant..."</p><p>He nods, sage and wise. "Ah, yes. The wailing bit. Took me back to simpler times - Ron poisoned in his hospital bed, Trelawny making some uncannily semi-accurate predictions, the like."</p><p>She groans. "Yeah. Thanks."</p><p>He feels the mood shift, just slightly, and takes his chance. "Look, I know why you don't want to - y'know, do it. That way. And I know I'm not gonna be the one to change your mind. But," and with this, he inches himself down until he's eye level with her, and tugs at her wrists to bring her hands down from her face. "But, to me, you are still the most beautiful girl I've ever known. Before and now still. You might not believe it. But it's true."</p><p>He can see the tears starting to well up in her eyes and hastily adds, "Of course, I'm not countin' Veela, since they're not actually girls, technically," and receives another slap on the head for his efforts.</p><p>She rests her head on his chest, and murmurs, so softly that he almost misses it, "Thank you."</p><p>He rests his chin on the top of her head, pulls her close again, and thinks of all the ways he'll try to make her happy, for as long as it takes, if she'll let him.</p>
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